


We're Not Broken; Just Sidetracked

by sootsprites



Series: Favored and Fighting: The story of Hestia Trevelyan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, I promise, Snippets, These Things Definitely Happened, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22434646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sootsprites/pseuds/sootsprites
Summary: "Well," Hestia said, wiping her brow with her sleeve, "That was an interesting diversion.""It is not what we were intending to do when we came here," Cassandra said, mouth pursed in the way she got when all was not as it should be."Yeah," Varric agreed, cheerfully settled on his perch, "But that doesn't make it bad."moments from We're Not Broken; Just Bent that definitely happened, they just weren't integral to Hestia's journey
Relationships: Cassandra Pentaghast & Female Trevelyan, Cassandra Pentaghast & Varric Tethras, Solas & Female Trevelyan, Varric Tethras & Female Trevelyan
Series: Favored and Fighting: The story of Hestia Trevelyan [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1614400
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	We're Not Broken; Just Sidetracked

**Author's Note:**

> The beginning, from another perspective

It was cold.

It was cold and dark.

It was cold and dark and dank and wet and she was shackled hand and foot and for one terrifying moment Hestia thought she was thirteen again, thirteen and bleeding all over the stone floor of the attic. But just as quickly as the thought came into her head, it was chased away by the flickering of torchlight, the slightly obscured view of two leather clad men brandishing their swords at her, and the clanking of a heavy door being thrown open.

Hestia was lying on her side on the cold stone floor of a dungeon, shackled hand and foot, her white blond hair down over her face, and there were guards holding her at swordpoint. She wasn’t being protected, she was being protected _ against. _

A tall imposing woman in armor strode into the room clad head to toe in battle worn armor, glowering. Another, slighter woman trailed behind her, her features shadowed by the hood she wore. The first woman waved a hand and the guards sheathed their swords and stepped back.  _ It’s four guards, not two _ , she realized before the tall imposing woman yanked Hestia up by her shackles.  _ Since when is a school teacher turned smuggler dangerous enough to merit four guards? _

Of course, Hestia Trevelyan was much more than that, but how in the world could these strangers know that?

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.” The woman snarled, her accent sharpening her words to knife points. She had a scar cut into the hollow of one cheek and her dark hair was cropped very short. “The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for  _ you. _ ”

The words echoed in Hestia’s mind and for a moment she was sure that this was a joke. But the chains were real, the frightened looks on the guards faces were real, and the murder in this woman’s eyes was very very real.

_ Conclave destroyed… everyone is dead… except for you…  _

_ No, Seph! Shay! _

When Hestia found her words, her voice shook. “What do you mean, ‘everyone’s dead’? What happened? I thought negotiations were going fine,” Well, not fine. They weren’t going anywhere from what gossip Hestia had sought out, but things hadn’t deteriorated to the point of violence, had they? “What happened?”

The woman, she must be from Nevarra with that accent and her coloring, dragged Hestia upright until her left hand was in eyesight, the iron shackles cutting into the skin of her wrists. “Explain this.” she spat, shaking Hestia’s shackles.

Something… happened in Hestia’s left hand. A bright greenish yellowing light crackled to life and Hestia felt the heat and fire of it  _ in _ her palm. She flinched back from it instinctively, the pain like a buzzing hive of bees filling her body up to the elbow. She stared at it, afraid and astonished.

“I- can’t.” Hestia said, fear choking her words.

“What do you mean you can’t?” The nevarra woman snarled, beginning to walk around her. The other woman stepped out of the shadows and began to do the same, circling like a shark around an injured swordfish.

“I don’t know what that is, or how it got there.”

“You’re lying!” The nevarran woman snapped, whirling around and grabbing Hestia’s shoulder; the gloved fist came back and Hestia flinched back from the strike.

It didn’t come. The slighter woman--  _ red hair, she has red hair _ \-- intervened and pulled her comrade back, saying in a softer, orlesian accent, “We need her, Cassandra.”

Hestia’s heart was pounding, her whole mind a jumble of shouting.  _ What is that? Seph, where is Seph? What is that thing? How did it get there? Shay was supposed to be here, what happened to him? So many people, how can they all be dead? Get this thing off my hand! _

“I can’t believe it.” Hestia didn’t know she had spoken until the other women in the room reacted. “All those people… they can’t be dead, they…”

“Do you remember what happened?” The orleasian woman asked, her eyes like flint in her fair face. Perhaps Hestia had been safer with the Nevarran, Cassandra. “How this began?”

_ She was running, they were close behind her, a woman in shrouded in golden light reached out to her, a blinding flash- _

“No!” Hestia knew this for certain at least. “I- we were here for the Conclave, we were with the free mages.”

“Who is we?” 

“My… my cousin and I,” Hestia stammered out, feeling her pulse start to run away from her. “We were…”  _ We were supposed to meet my brother here. He had news from home. About Aunt Tamra, about Momma. _ She swallowed hard and took a breath, and when she spoke again her voice was even. “We were with the Free Mages from Redcliffe, but I swear, none of my people did this.”

Cassandra shook her head and turned away from her, speaking quietly to her orleasian comrade. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.”

Leliana cast another glance back at Hestia, but did as she was bid; she left the room on catlike feet, never making a sound. Cassandra crouched before Hestia and, to Hestia’s utter shock, began unchaining her feet, her rough warriors hands moving quickly from lock to lock.

“What happened?” Hestia asked softly, not expecting anything from her but she had to make the attempt anyway. “Really?”

Cassandra glanced up at her and, close as they were, Hestia could finally see the weariness in those dark eyes. “It,” Cassandra began, then licked her lips and began again. “It will be easier to show you.”

Cassandra bound Hestia’s hands in light ropes, tied tight enough to stop her from drawing any power from the fade. Hestia had seen these before, she’d even been shackled in them once or twice. Mana dampening silk, with lyrium spun into the thread before each length was capped with bronze. Whatever these people thought Hestia had done, they were really pulling out all the stops to keep her from escaping.

Cassandra pulled Hestia to her feet, far more gently than Hestia would’ve thought she deserved, and led her through a dungeon and up a flight of stairs. They emerged in a small chantry with all the benches pushed to the corners in order to make room for all the cots. They passed rows and rows of them, each bed occupied by at least two people, and she saw four children huddled on one, arms around a baby as it wailed pitifully.

Hestia felt a chill run down her spine. After three years of fighting against templars and city watch and bandits and Maker knows what else, she knew what a corpse looked like. 

Then she looked up and saw it.

It was an awful gaping maw in the middle of the sky, surrounded by clouds and smoke and crackling with a sickly green light. Huge chunks of earth or stone floated close to the mouth, defying the laws of the Maker and gravity all at once. The clouds swirled around it, the eye of the storm, but Hestia could tell just by looking at that she would find no calm in that center, there would be no serenity to be found. Only death.

The magic hurt to look at, it bathed her face in a tingling wave that she usually only felt when an alchemical experiment was about to explode. 

“We call it the Breach.” Cassandra said, her eyes were drawn to the awful gaping maw as a moth to a flame. “It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger by the hour. It’s not the only such rift, just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

Hestia looked back at Cassandra, the words ‘that’s impossible’ poised on her tongue. But one look at Cassandra’s grave face changed her mind. However impossible this awful terrible monstrosity was, it was very real. And the danger was very grave indeed.

“What kind of explosion could cause  _ that _ ?” She asked instead, and the answer popped into her mind almost immediately.

“A magical one.” Cassandra answered, her eyes narrowing at Hestia’s light clothing, the runes stitched carefully into her gloves, the charm of hardiness tied around her throat (stolen from the body of a tranquil who had simply dropped dead at the end of a long walk through the Marches; he had been instructed not to speak, and nobody had remembered to give him food and water since he could not ask for it.) “Unless we act, the breach my grow until it swallows the world.”

As if on cue, the Breach crackled to life again, spitting out chunks of stone across the horizon and pulsing a brighter stronger green. Hestia crumbled to her knees as the mark  _ burned _ across her hand and all the way up to her elbow, making her see stars behind her eyes even as she clenched her teeth around the scream climbing up her throat.

Cassandra went down on one knee beside her. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads… and it  _ is _ killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time.”

Hestia looked back up at Cassandra, hearing the question she wouldn’t ask.  _ Will you risk your life to stop this thing, knowing we may execute you anyway? _ There wouldn’t be any bargaining or deals, not with a woman like this. She wore the flaming sword of the Templar Order on her breastplate like it was meant to be there. She held herself straight and upright like her righteousness would shield her, and maybe it had. 

_ Will you protect these people, knowing they may hate you for it? _

Hestia had made her peace with the answer a long time ago.

“All right then.” Hestia said, pulling herself to her feet. “Let’s go.”

Cassandra’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean…?”

“We have to try.” Hestia said, closing her mouth to keep her thoughts from slipping out.  _ Not all mages are selfish reckless freedom fighters, sometimes we care about other people. _

The fact that Hestia  _ was _ a selfish reckless freedom fighter was quite beside the point.

“There will be a trial,” Cassandra told her, and with a quick slice of her knife Hestia was free of her bonds. “I can promise no more.”

Hestia had to squint against the glare of the frozen sun, and the awful screaming and glowing Breach hanging in the sky like some great malevolent spider. How long had she been unconscious? And would they tell her the truth if she asked? The mark on her hand burned again and Hestia once again clenched her teeth around a scream.

The Breach and her hand weren’t distraction enough for her not to notice the stares and glowers she was drawing as Cassandra led her through the village. Soldiers and clerics and ordinary people shook their heads in Hestia’s direction, shouted curses and fouler words at her. She was used to a certain level of mistrust but this was a new level of unease.

“They have decided your guilt.” Cassandra said beside her as she practically marched Hestia through the small town of Haven. “They need it.”

“Well that certainly sounds familiar.” Hestia remarked dryly, and raised an eyebrow when Cassandra shot her a glare. She was probably used to that look terrifying everyone around her, but Hestia’s sense of self preservation was temporarily suspended. “What must it be like to walk the streets without someone screaming about demons when you come near?”

Cassandra declined to comment.

Hestia and Seph had passed through Haven on their way to the temple, but it hadn’t looked like anything but a smattering of houses and a large makeshift stable. Now she could see tents filled with the dead and dying, she could see cooking fires and a large pyre on the beach of the small frozen lake. Cassandra led her past barricades and a heavy cart on its side, the wheels burning merrily.

Once they were past the gates on the Penitents Crossing, Hestia asked, “Where are you taking me exactly?”

“It’s not far.” Cassandra said over her shoulder. “Your mark needs to be tested on something smaller than the Breach.”

“You said the Breach wasn’t the only rift.” Hestia said, starting to jog a bit to keep up with Cassandra’s long strides. Hestia wasn’t a short woman by any means, but Cassandra walked as though she hated the path ahead of her and needed to give it a piece of her mind. “How many are there?”

“We don’t know.” Cassandra told her, sounding frustrated by the admission. “We haven’t had time to see how far the damage has spread. The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.” 

Hestia wanted to ask so many things, but didn’t get the chance; the Breach crackled to life, her mark burned, and a huge chunk of rock and fire hurtled towards them. It crashed onto the bridge, pulling the old stones from their mortar like a tooth from a child's mouth, sending Cassandra and Hestia tumbling ass over tea kettle onto the frozen river below.

Hestia groaned and tried to get to her hands and knees while also checking to see if anything was broken. Again. Nothing hurt worse than a bruise, although her chest ached in an awfully familiar way that meant the rib she had fractured last fall had perhaps fractured again. She shook the stars from her eyes and was just about to call out to Cassandra when she smelled the ozone.

Ozone and smoke and acid breath. The smell of a demons maw just before it descended on your throat.

Hestia struck it on instinct alone, gathering a fireball in her fist and throwing it as hard as she could at the demon bearing down on her. The impact knocked it back a few yards, closer to Cassandra who was having to contend with two other demons. She seemed fairly practiced at taking down demons given how she’d beheaded one and slashed the other across the carapace in one fluid movement, but a relentless onslaught from a rift in the sky was the best teacher there was.

Hestia scrambled to her feet when she saw the last demon turn its false face to her, the claws on its awful little hands flexing. She stumbled back against some crates and nearly fell again, but these broken boxes were her salvation. They were full of weapons, and under a bow and a quiver full of arrows, Hestia saw a  _ staff. _

_ Maker, _ Hestia thought, plunging her hand into the crate and coming up with a training staff with a dull crystal head. _ If you’re still listening, I promise to never swear using your name again. _

Against Hestia’s fireballs and lightning bolts and Cassandra’s sword strikes, the demons stood little chance. The staff was weak but Cassandra was not and not a moment too soon Hestia was able to drop out of her battle stance and press and hand to her ribs. Yep, definitely fractured. It was a different rib though, which was always good.  _ I’ll get that solid stone rib cage yet, _ she thought, then shut her eyes against the wave of grief that crashed over her.  _ She can’t be dead, she can’t be dead, she can’t be  _ dead _ , she just can’t be. _

“Drop your weapon!” Cassandra ordered, and Hestia opened her eyes to Cassandra holding her at sword point. “Now!”

“I need this weapon!” Hestia shot back, letting anger flare in the place of any other emotion she didn’t feel like having. “I have to be able to defend myself.”

“You are still a prisoner.” Cassandra said, and the tone of command in her voice was strong enough that she must’ve been giving orders for many years now. “And you are still a threat.”

“I’m a bigger threat than demons?!”

“At this moment, you’re the only threat I see.” Cassandra growled, taking another step towards her.

Hestia mirrored the movement, slowly stepping to the side, away from the wreckage of timbers and weapons. If it came to a fight, all that bric a brac would get underfoot and get her killed right quick. “A demon attacked me,” she said, slowly, evenly. She would be a fool to attack a warrior like Cassandra, but she’d also be a fool not to protect herself. “What was I supposed to do?”

“You don’t need to fight.” Cassandra sounded so sure, but the fires and crackling in the sky belied her argument.

“Can you guarantee it won’t happen again?” Hestia asked, and now her back was to the Breach. Not exactly a smart maneuver but it put the real danger back in Cassandra’s sight line.

Cassandra looked like she wanted to protest more, then her gaze flickered over Hestia's shoulder. After a moment she sighed and sheathed her sword. “You’re right,” she told Hestia. “I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.” After a moment, she said, “I should remember you volunteered to come.”

Hestia stepped out of her stance and settled the staff against the ice, leaning against it and following Cassandra up the bank. She pressed a hand to her ribs and took a breath, pulling at the fade until her hand was enclosed in soft white light. She wasn’t much of a healer but she could at least dull the pain enough to help her breathe until she could see a real one.

“Are you injured?” Cassandra asked when Hestia caught up with her.

“If you and I are going to be friends Cassandra, there’s something you should know about me.” Hestia gave Cassandra a toothy grin. “I am  _ always _ injured.”

“Here then,” Cassandra said, pressing a small round bottle into Hestia’s hand. “Take these potions. Maker knows what we will face.”

Hestia looked down at the bottle. After a moments scrutiny, it revealed itself to be a rather simple potency potion, meant to dull pain and increase energy for a short time. She pulled out the stopper of one with her teeth and downed the whole thing, then hitched the other two in the loops in her belt made expressly for this purpose. She hadn’t stolen much from the Circle when it fell, just the bits that she thought of as hers, a pack of herbs that were long gone, and a few of the battle mage belts. They’d come in handy.

Once past another ridge and another set of demons, and Cassandra took off at a run. “We’re getting close to the rift!” She shouted. “You can hear the fighting!”

“Who’s fighting?” Hestia shouted, struggling to keep up.

“You’ll see soon enough! We must help them!”

With that, Cassandra leapt off the side of the road and disappeared. Hestia stopped for only a moment to catch her breath and take in the scene, and the Maker knows she wished she hadn’t.

A half a dozen people were fighting demons at a smaller rift that floated ominously in the air, sprouting strange crystalline edges and crackling like ice in the canals as the steel boats were pushed through them to break up the flows. It too was surrounded by a haze of greenish smoke, and spinning slowly as more crackling crystals jutted out and then receded again. A demon had evaded Cassandra and was bearing down on that dwarf holding… some sort of oversized crossbow? Hestia grabbed her staff and threw a barrier over him and Cassandra both, then hopped down and ran to join the fray. 

A few more moments of violence and the fight was finished, but nobody could relax with the rift still there crackling and glowing and generally being very terrible to look at.

“Quickly!” A voice shouted, and then someone had hold of Hestia’s hand and was dragging it upward, towards the rift. “Before more come through!”

Hestia was about to protest when the rift crackled and her mark… answered. It was the only way to describe it, her mark and the rift seemed to recognize each other as the same type of creature. A heartbeat later, a bolt of light and heat and energy shot from the rift and-

“What… was that?” Hestia asked, looking from her hand to the space where the rift had been only moments before, to the person who had shouted. “What did you do?”

The person was a brown skinned elf with a staff, a conspicuously lack of dalish tattoos and a collection of tightly woven braids pulled back at the base of his neck. “I did nothing,” He said with a small smile. “The credit is yours.”

“You mean this?” Hestia looked back down at the mark, pulsing with green light just beneath her skin. She could see her bones and blood vessels in her palm, but when she turned the hand over the light did not dim or shift at all. It was in her hand and outside of her hand all at once. Strange magic, unlike anything she’d ever seen before. “This mark closed the rift?”

“Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand.” The elf said. His voice was smooth and somehow soothing. Hestia felt some of her tension ease as he talked, the surety in his voice smoothing her frazzled nerves. “I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts left in the Breach’s wake- and it seems I was correct.”

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.” Cassandra said with dawning understanding and maybe even hope in her voice.

“Possibly.” He allowed, nodding to Cassandra before glancing back at Hestia. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

“Good to know,” said the dwarf with the oversized crossbow. “Here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” he slung the crossbow over his back and walked over to shake Hestia’s hand. “Varric Tethras, rogue, storyteller, and occasionally, unwelcome tagalong.”

He must’ve been suicidal, because he winked at Cassandra.

“Good to meet you Varric,” Hestia said, old instincts kicking in.

The elf raised an eyebrow and with an amused grin he said, “You may reconsider that stace, in time.”

Varric dusted off his hands. “Aww, I'm sure we’ll become great friends in the valley, Chuckles.”

“Absolutely not.” Cassandra protested. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…”

Varric cut her off. “Have you been in the valley lately Seeker? Your soldier aren’t in control anymore. You  _ need _ me.” He gave what was clearly meant to be a beguiling smile, but all he got for his efforts was a disgusted noise from Cassandra.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” The elf said to Hestia. “I am pleased to see you still live.”

“He means, ‘I kept that thing from killing you while you slept’,” Varric added.

“Unlike you, Solas is an apostate, well-versed in such matters.” Cassandra told Hestia, who raised her eyebrows. She was just taking a breath to correct the seeker but Solas beat her to it.

“Technically, all mages are now apostates, Cassandra,” he said. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any  _ Circle mage _ . I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin.”

The derision in his tone had Hestia raising an eyebrow but there would be time for that conversation later. It wasn’t as if Hestia was a fan of the circles either. “Then I owe you my thanks,” she told him instead.

“Thank me if we manage to close the Breach without killing you in the process.” Solas answered, before looking at Cassandra and saying, “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

Cassandra nodded briskly. “Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly,” she said, leading the way over some rubble and down the bank.

Varric shrugged and started to follow her. To Hestia he said, “Well, Bianca’s excited!”

Hestia raised her eyebrows and fell in with him. “Who’s Bianca?”

“Don’t ask.” Cassandra called, she had that cross look again.

“This is Bianca.” Varric said, indicating the crossbow on his back with all the cheer of a gloating father. “Beautiful isn’t she? We’ve been through a lot together.”

They picked their way up the bank and fought a few more demons. Hestia tired to focus her attention on the life threatening situation she'd found herself in this week, and for the most part the demons and the fires and the snow that put a chill in her bones was doing its part to distract her from the gnawing fear and pain that was growing in her chest.

_ She can’t be dead, he can’t be dead, they can’t be dead, please Andraste I will give you anything you ask if you just let them not be dead. _

Perhaps her distress was less invisible than she hoped, for Varric asked, “So… are you innocent?”

Hestia welcomed any form of distraction at this point. “I don’t remember what happened,” she said, worry coloring her words.

Varric _ tsked _ in a knowing way. “That’ll get you every time. Should have spun a story.”

“That’s what you would have done.” Cassandra grumbled.

“It’s more believable,” Varric told her cheerfully, “and less prone to result in premature execution.”

They continued up the narrow winding stone stairs to the northwest, past another pack of demons that they dispatched handily. Clearly the people who had gathered were experienced fighters, and Hestia was beginning to feel more of less superfluous until they encountered another rift just before a barred gate.

“Hurry!” Solas urged her when they’d helped what soldiers were guarding this rift with the demons. “Use the mark.”

Hestia wasn’t entirely sure how she would go about doing that, but the rift and the mark on her hand had other plans. As soon as she raised her left hand the mark  _ reacted _ , and it was near impossible to stop it. She felt the connection as it hit, the shock wave reverberated up her arm and into her shoulders; Hestia felt like here whole body was being slowly filled with the buzzing of bees and just when she couldn’t take it anymore- it was over. 

The buzzing stopped. 

The rift was gone.

“The rift is gone!” Cassandra shouted to the other soldiers, wiping the sweat and blood from her brow. Was that relief in her eyes? It was difficult to tell. “Open the gate!”

Solas put his hand on her shoulder, drawing Hestia back to the here and now. “We are clear for the moment. Well done.”

“Whatever that thing on your hand is,” Varric added, “It’s useful.”

Hestia shook herself a bit and stopped staring at the place where the rift had been only moments before. She’d seen tears in the fade, places in the world where the veil had worn so thin that bits of the fade fell through to the waking world. But these rifts were… different. It was difficult to describe but-

“These rifts,” Hestia said to Solas before he could leave her behind in the snow. “Are they an aftershock from the Breach opening, or are those still to come?”

Solas looked at her quietly, as if she’d momentarily surprised him. “It’s not clear yet how far the effects of the Breach have spread. If we are successful today, there will be time to find out.”

Hestia had her doubts, but she followed him through the gates, and only jumped a little when the soldiers closed them behind her. 

This was all starting to become familiar to her now, this was the last bridge before the true entrance to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. This chantry had been taken over by dragon worshipping cultists for several years before the blight came and wiped them all out. The tunnels those cultists had dug had been fascinating to wander through, and Seph had annoyed every historian in the place trying to get information about how the eggs had been incubated and how the hatchlings had been raised. Hestia had scoffed at the questions, but only to wind Seph up; nothing got her cousins attention more quickly than the science and history of draconology.

_ There had to be drakes in this chamber, see the scorch marks? _

With a gasp, Hestia felt a black mouth open inside her chest that began to wail continuously. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see, all she could hear was the rough burr of Ben’s voice in her mind telling her to ‘keep safe, the pair of you. This war ain’t finished yet’. Hestia had laughed and agreed with him, and Seph had called them both cynical old bats, and then-

Hestia’s shoulders hit the wall when she stumbled backwards, struggling to pull herself back together, struggled to drag breath into her lungs past the choking sobs that were attempting to crawl up her throat. It wasn’t that the breach was so much closer now, though it was. It wasn’t dawning awareness of the bodies they’d passed to get to this point, the many many people who were dead in the wake of this disaster, and still more who had lost their lives trying in vain to fight back against it.

No, it was the sudden and horrific realization that all these people had been fighting for Maker knows how many days against the Breach, and only now had there been any success in closing these rifts. Only  _ she _ had the means to fix this. The strong arming that Cassandra was doing had been one big bluff, Hestia’s life no longer depended not on the whims of the Chantry, but on the whims of the mark currently  _ eating _ her left hand.

It was Solas who first noticed her distress, saw the manic look in her eyes and the way she could barely breathe.

He stepped to her side and took her wrist, pressing the pad of his thumb to her pulse there. “Just look at me. Hold a moment,” he told her, his voice low and smooth and hypnotic. She obediently held her breath, fixing her eyes to the middle of his forehead. Solas nodded, “Good. Now look past me, and relax.”

Hestia glanced at his eyes, unconvinced, but he head her gaze steadily. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to loosen the tension in her shoulders. “Listen carefully,” Solas told her, “Something happened to you, you mind was wounded and your spirit is compensating, as you might tuck an injured arm to your side. Nothing to worry about.” His voice was quiet, a bastien of stillness in the surrounding madness. “There is no true danger, not now. You are in control here. Focus on what is here, in this world. Feel the ground, the breath in your lungs, fabric rustling against your skin.”

_ You are in control here.  _ Hestia folded the thought up and tucked it beneath her skin, like a secret. She repeated it to herself as she did as Solas bid, focusing on the sensations she could feel; the itch of her sock that had scrunched down in her boot, the cold wind biting at her nose and chin and cheeks, the singular bead of sweat running slowly down her spine.  _ You are in control here _ , she repeated before opening her eyes again, feeling as her heart rate slowed to a more normal pace.

“I’m all right.” She told Solas, who nodded to her and stepped back, dropping her wrist from his hand. “Thank you, Solas.”

“It’s all right.” He waved her thanks away, offering another of those small secret smiles. “It can be overwhelming for anyone.”

“That’s one world for it.” Hestia told him, taking a moment to scrub at her face to get some color back into it. “Come on, before Cassandra leaves us behind.”

Cassandra hadn’t left them behind, she had been directing the scouts that held this bridge, but as soon as Hestia drew nearer she signaled to another soldier to finish the orders and led their party towards where the red headed orleasian woman, Leliana, was having an argument with a cleric of some kind. 

Hestia knew men were allowed to serve the Chantry in some limited positions; Shay had been a lay brother in the Ostwick Grand Cathedral for more than a year now. She wasn’t sure how high in the ranks of Andraste’s most faithful and devoted a man could really climb, but this one apparently thought he had enough authority to boss Leliana around. By the look on her face, Leliana disagreed with him.

When the cleric caught sight of Cassandra, he narrowed his eyes and said, “Ah, here they come.”

“You made it.” Leliana said with some real relief in her voice. “Chancellor Roderick, this is–”

He cut her off with a sneered, “I know who she is.” Roderick pointed at Cassandra, then Hestia. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.”

Cassandra could not have looked more offended if she were an actor in an Orleasian farce. “'Order me’? You are a glorified clerk. A bureaucrat!”

“And you are a thug, but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!” Chancellor Roderick spat back at her.

“We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor,” Leliana objected, then, seeming to hear her own words, she added more softly, “As you well know.”

“Justinia is dead!” Chancellor Roderick snapped, perhaps too harshly, for both women flinched. “We must elect her replacement, and obey her orders on the matter.”

Hestia crossed her arms, already sick to death of this man. “Excuse me, you’ll ignore the rip in the fabric of the world until someone with the proper authority comes along to tell you what to do?”

Roderick looked like if he could spit flames that would roast Hestia where she stood, he would gladly do so. “ _ You _ brought this on us in the first place!” He shouted, pointing an accusing finger at her.

Hestia set her jaw and raised her chin in defiance.

Roderick shook his head, but all the hot air seemed to be escaping from him now. He turned to Cassandra and all but pleaded, “Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.”

Cassandra shook her head and planted her hands flat on the table that the Chancellor was using as a desk. “We can stop this before it’s too late.”

“How?” He asked, shaking his head. “You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple, even with all your soldiers.”

“We must get to the temple.” Cassandra pressed on, bullheaded. “It’s the quickest route.”

“But not the safest.” Leliana said, pointing up towards the mountain. “Our forces can charge as a distraction while we go through the mountains.”

Cassandra frowned and shook her head. “We lost contact with an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky.”

Roderick tried one last time, though perhaps he could tell his voice would go unheard. “ _ Listen _ to me. Abandon this now, before more lives are lost.”

In the sky ahead, the Breach crackled and roared, flashing sickly green steaks across the sky. Hestia felt the mark on her hand open a little wider, and she clenched her fist against the searing pain, feeling the burning and buzzing as it crept ever so slowly upwards towards her shoulder.

Cassandra looked over at Hestia, tactical seriousness had turned her face to something than should’ve been carved in marble. “How do you think we should proceed?”

Hestia furrowed her brow, still fighting against the pain. “Now you’re asking me what I think?”

“You have the mark.” Solas said behind her.

“And you are the one we must keep alive.” Cassandra added, nodding once. “Since we cannot agree on our own…”

Hestia looked ahead towards what must be the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She couldn’t see much of it from here, except for the hazy cloud of smoke that was hanging over all of the valley. If there were as many demons as they had been faced with up to this point, Hestia wasn’t sure she had the stamina to fight them. She squinted and looked up at the mountains Leliana had indicated. The historians had said something about a mining complex that interconnected with the cultists tunnels, but she and Seph hadn’t wanted to chance the hike, in case one of them fell. In case Hestia fell.

_ Maybe I’ll slip and break my neck, let this worry be for nothing. It’s probably what I deserve for leaving Seph on her own. For living when I should’ve died.  _

“Use the mountain path.” Hestia said, her mouth very dry.

So Leliana was sent to gather everyone who could still fight, to draw attention in the temple. Meanwhile, they climbed. Hestia had spent the last fifteen years in a tower with six floors, she was good at climbing. It was steep trek through snow and ice, and you had to watch where you put your feet or risk twisting an ankle.

The ladders weren’t taxing, but waiting politely for Cassandra to finish climbing before she started up was leaving Hestia with too much time to stare over her shoulder at the Breach, at the slowly spinning epicentre of rocks and smoke and fade, at the thin line of glittering green that snaked down into the crater that used to contain the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It was only when Varric tapped her on the shoulder at the last landing that Hestia realized that she’d been clutching the railing with white knuckled hands, staring fixedly at the thing like she could destroy it with her mind.

“Focus Hestia.” He said, his gravelly voice almost lost beneath the howl of the wind. “We don’t want you getting lost.”

Hestia forced a laugh and followed behind him into the entrance to the mining complex.

Inside it was better, the cold and the demons wandering through the deserted passages were more than enough to occupy her thoughts, though Cassandra cast disapproving looks when Hestia stopped to root through barrels and pick up coins on the floor. Hestia ignored her; two and a half years on the run had taught her that if someone wasn’t coming back for it, it was yours now. You never know when you need a few blood lotus leaves.

“Are all rebel mages scavengers of the dead?” Cassandra asked sourly, when Hestia stopped for the fourth time to check a barrel for supplies, coming up with some old elfroot and three soverigns. “What happened to honoring the fallen?”

“The  _ Free Mages _ are learning what it means to own something,” Hestia said, her voice deadly calm. She pocketed the coins and crumpled the elfroot in her left hand, easing the pain for a moment or two. She cast Cassandra a scornful look, “some of them for the very first time. It’s difficult to understand personal possessions when the Chantry owns the clothes on your back.”

“After the circles provided you with food, lodging, an education among those who understand magic and its dangers, you would prefer to run around in rags?” Cassandra snapped, that harsh aggressive edge to her voice an omen of danger.

Hestia’s chin jerked up in defiance. “I’d prefer to have skills that are useful outside the circles. I had the best education the chantry could deign to offer me, which means I can throw a fireball and sing the chant most prettily, but Maker forbid I learn how to  _ feed _ myself or stitch a tear in my clothing. I can teach a lesson on the Tower Age but nobody ever taught me to read a fucking map!”

“Okay, okay.” Varric hastily stepped between them, hands up. “Let’s stay on task here, we’ve got bigger problems right now. Seeker?” He gave Cassandra a look over his shoulder but Hestia could bet it was a pleading one. “After you?”

Cassandra looked as though she’d like to say more, but instead she turned on her heel and continued down the passage. Hestia got to her feet slowly, keeping her eyes on Cassandra’s retreating back. “Thanks Varric,” she murmured to the dwarf, following him through the dripping complex.

“Andraste’s flaming knickers, Lady, what do you have, a death wish?” Varric asked her, looking up at her with a derisive snort. “You can’t get in the Seekers face like that. Last time I did she stabbed me in the book!”

Hestia blinked. “Don’t you mean the back?”

Varric shook his head. “Nope, I definitely mean the book.”

At the exit, they found three corpses, only a few hours old by the smell and the condition of their limbs. Hestia knelt to close the eyes of one unseeing scout, electing not to check for coins on this particular instance. When she rose again, Hestia felt eyes on her back.

They were Cassandras. The Seeker watched Hestia with face impassive, eyes dark and deep and filled with life. After a moment, the Seeker cleared her throat and said, “That cannot be all of them.”

Varric scratched the back of his head, but his voice was hopeful. “So the others could be holed up ahead?”

Solas shook his head, eyes turned skyward. “Our priority must be the Breach. Unless we seal it soon, no one is safe.”

Varric snorted once again. “I’m leaving that to the lady with the glowing hand.”

They picked their way down the snow-covered path, Hestia was forced to keep her eyes on her footing or risk slipping off her feet and sliding down the rest of the path on her arse, taking the rest of these people with her. She looked up only when she heard the sounds of fade rifts and fighting, the noises already becoming familiar to her.

What remained of Cassandra’s scouts were at the rift, fighting a losing battle against a group of demons. Without a word Cassandra took off at a run to aid them, unsheathing her sword with the ringing of steel against steel and bringing it down on a demon with one powerful swing.

Hestia reached for her staff while Solas flared his fingers, covering Seeker Cassandra and the scout closest to her with a barrier with barely a whisper of power. Hestia did the same for him and Varric before kicking herself into a fade step, zipping up beside another fallen scout and putting her staff in the way of the demon’s claws.

It snarled at her with its rotten breath but Hestia snarled right back, shoving the creature back and hitting it with enough fistfuls of ice to send it back into the rift. For a brief moment, it looked like they were clear, but then the fade rift crackled again and five new demons were spat from the fade, landing all around them with a sinister hiss.

Varric put bolts into the demon that stood just before Hestia and she skittered back from it, reaching out one hand to put a charm of protection on the dwarf. But that moment of distraction nearly cost her everything. Behind her there was an otherworldly wail and Hestia barely had time to look over her shoulder before she was knocked to the ground by a wall of force that knocked the breath from her lungs.

She rolled onto her back to see an unnerving long limbed creature crouching over her, no face, just a gaping maw that was shrieking shrilly, filling her whole world up with the awful sound. It raised up one terrifying arm, its claws at least the length of her forearm and Hestia closed her eyes and pulled at the magic within her for something, anything.

What she got was a mind blast, but it was enough to knock this awful creature away from her, and in the span of a breath Cassandra was there, bashing the demon with her shield and rending it in twain. After a breathless moment, Hestia sat up and looked at the figure of the Seeker, standing over her in her armor, smoke and blood streaked across her face.

“Thanks.” Hestia said.

Cassandra sheathed her sword and reached out to tug Hestia to her feet. “You can thank me when all of this is done.” The warrior said, raising an eyebrow.

The rift crackled again and this time, Hestia was ready. She reached out with her left hand, the hand with the mark that was even now coming awake to interact with its brethren. The crackling connection was made, and the buzzing and pain was endured, and then it was over.

Solas watched the interaction, then nodded sharply at Hestia. “Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

Varric came to stand beside him, slinging his enormous crossbow onto his back. “Let’s hope it works on the big one.”

Cassandra helped a soldier to her feet.

“Thank the Maker you finally arrived, Lady Cassandra.” The scout said, pulling back her leather hood and wiping sweat and blood from her brow. “I don’t think we could have held out much longer.”

Cassandra shook her head. “Thank our prisoner, Lieutenant. She insisted we come this way.”

The scout looked between Hestia and Cassandra, “The prisoner? Then you…?”

“Leave no man behind.” Hestia said, trying for a winning smile. Since part of her face was bleeding, it may not have quite reached the mark.

They carried on. Hestia could tell that she was reaching the end of her limit, and she was very seriously considering swallowing her pride and asking Cassandra if they could take a break, so Hestia could catch her breath and drink another one of the potions on her belt, but it seemed like a bad idea. As they grew closer to the epicentre, Cassandra grew more and more determined in her strides until she was nearly running down the slope. The Breach grew ever closer, rising up and up above their heads until the loudest sound was the crackling of it, the ever present hissing just on the edge of hearing, the whining in Hestia’s ears that came and went.

Then they rounded a bend, and Hestia felt her stomach drop.

Cassandra turned to look at Hestia, saying quietly, “That is where you walked out the Fade and our soldiers found you. They said a woman was in the rift behind you. No one knows who she was.”

_ She was running, they were close behind her, a woman in shrouded in golden light reached out to her, a blinding flash- _

Whether or not that memory was real or something taken from her dreams could be dealt with later. Hestia trailed behind the others, wide staring eyes taking in everything at once. She had the sense of standing in two places at once, for hadn’t she stood here just days ago? This was meant to be the atrium, a soaring architectural marvel that rivaled the temples of the dead in Nevarra, the glittering spires of Val Royeaux, the ancient structures of Tevinter?

But the stones beneath her boots were caked with ash, the smooth walls were torn apart all around her, and where there had stood many dozens of people there were instead many dozens of corpses, some broken apart, some burned down to their bones. The worst were the bodies that were frozen in their moments of anguish, the muscles and blood scoured away to leave blood curdling statues depicting the most abject pain and misery imaginable.

_ Are they here somewhere? Is there no hope that they survived? _ Hestia thought. But she knew, looking at this awful scene, that there was no hope. There was no way.

They were gone.

Varric whistled, tipping his head back to look at the malevolent aberration that now dominated the sky. “The breach is a long way up.”

There was a pattering of feet behind them, and they turned to see Leliana running towards them with what must’ve been the rest of the soldiers left in the valley. “You’re here!” She said, coming to Cassandra’s side. “Thank the Maker.”

“Leliana, have your men take up positions around the temple.” Cassandra told her, and when Leliana walked away to give orders to her scouts and soldiers, Cassandra turned to Hestia. “This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”

_ No, _ Hestia thought, hearing a dull roaring in her ears. _ But when has that ever mattered. _

So she said, “I’m assuming you have a plan to get me up there.”

Solas shook his head. “No. This rift was the first and is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.”

Cassandra nodded. “Then let’s find a way down.” She said, in that tone that meant it was actually an order. “And be careful.”

They started along a thin path that circled downward, around into the crater that must’ve been the true center of all of this. Leliana accompanied them, dodging from stone to stone on light soundless feet, either unbothered or unencumbered by the quiver of arrows and simple longbow she now carried on her back.

Hestia felt someone take her hand, and looked down to see Varric, looking at her with concern in his gaze. “You still with us?” He asked, his voice scratchy as an old wool blanket.

Hestia’s throat was closing, her eyes were hot, she could barely breathe, and all she could manage was a choked, “I was here with… my cousin, and my- my brother was… I can’t-”

Varric looked at her and an ocean of understanding washed over him. He squeezed her hand tightly, and when he spoke, his voice shook ever so slightly. “I understand, I do. We just got a little further to go, then you can rest, okay? Just a little further?”

Hestia pressed her lips together, tipped her head back to look at the Breach.  _ Just a little further _ , she told herself, following after Varric as he led her by the hand down the ridge towards the reason for all this pain. She’d used to say the same thing to Ben’s son, in the early days when they were always on the run.  _ Just a little further and then we’ll find you a soft place to rest. _

As they descended, the world around them became a strange unknowable place. Huge stone spikes had shot out from the ground, perhaps calcified from the explosion, and they intermittently gave off a strange green light that bathed her face in more of the tingling stinging feeling that meant the veil was thin enough to rip with her fingers. In fact, as they descended, the only thing Hestia could find to prove that they hadn’t stepped fully into the fade was the presence of the dwarf at her side. 

From somewhere in the crater, there was a deep and echoing voice, saying, “Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice.”

Cassandra reached for her sword, her hawk like eyes scanning for threats. “What are we hearing?”

“At a guess: The person who created the Breach.” Solas said.

On the path ahead of them, there was more of the strange stone growth, but these were almost crystalline in construction. They formed a strange path in the ground before jutting upwards and glowing red with an intensity that was eerily familiar. In fact, Hestia would almost say that this was-

“You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker.” Varric said, sounding very worried indeed.

“I see it, Varric.”

“But what it’s  _ doing _ here?”

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it…” Solas commented, though he didn’t sound nearly as confident in his assessment this time.

Varric’s whole body shivered, as if to shake off an imagined chill. “It’s evil. Whatever you do don’t touch it.”

Hestia remembered rumors about there being lyrium veins beneath the Temple of Sacred Ashes, but as she was about to remark on them, there was another echoing voice from the crater.

“Keep the sacrifice still.”

And then, another voice, this one very scared, “Someone help me!”

Cassandra’s head jerked up, her shoulders straightening in a perhaps involuntary display of respect. “That is Divine Justinia’s voice!”

Justinia yelled again, her voice sounding very far away, the sounds warped as though they were hearing her from underwater. “Someone help me!”

“What’s going on here?” Came the faraway response from… 

Cassandra rounded on Hestia, her expression confused, her eyes wide and frightened. “That was  _ your _ voice. Most Holy called out to you. But…”

They were just at the edge of the crater now, the wide blast side with a cracking rift in the center of it. As soon as the five of them dropped into the crater itself, there was a flash of white light. Ghostly images appeared before them, floating in the air and larger than life.

A woman who must’ve been Divine Justinia was floating in the air before them, held in place by red energy wrapped around her arms. A large dark figure with glowing red eyes loomed over her, casting a long shadow over her and the broken stone below. Behind them, a banging noise was heard and then a ghostly image of Hestia appeared, looking much the same as she felt at this moment.

The phantom image of Hestia yelled, “What’s going on here?”

“Run while you can! Warn them!” The phantom Justinia responded.

The looming figure never took it’s eyes from Justinia, but it said, “We have an intruder. Kill her. Now.”

The phantom images faded, and Cassandra turned back to Hestia, desperation in her voice. “You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

“I don’t know!” Hestia answered with equal desperation, she felt close to tears. “I don’t remember!”

“Echoes of what happened here.” Solas said, coming over to put his shoulder between Hestia and Cassandra. He must’ve noticed Hestia’s response to the scene of desolation behind them. “The Fade bleeds into this place.”

Hestia hissed as the mark on her hand woke yet again, and the rift at the center of this pit reacted to it, hissing and spitting with new intensity. “Shit!” She hissed, falling back a step and nearly colliding with Leliana. “Whatever this thing is, if we don’t do what we’re trying to do here, it might just eat me. Can we please save our questions until the danger is past?” 

She looked at Cassandra, and for once the Nevarran woman seemed to agree with her. “Solas?” Cassandra said, turning to look at the apostate with all the answers.

“This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily.” Solas said with the tones of a scholar. “I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

Cassandra nodded, her face grim. “That means demons.” She shouted to the assembled archers and fighters around them. “Stand ready!”

All along the walls, Leliana’s archers nocked their arrows and aimed at the rift. Soldiers readied their swords and what few mages there were readied their staves, crystals glowing red and blue and green. Hestia took a shaking breath, looking to Varric for strength, then to Solas. He nodded to her, and thought Hestia had known him for barely hours, she took his calm certainty and wrapped it around her like a cloak, letting it give her strength.

Cassandra nodded to Hestia.

Hestia pulled off her gloves and looked down at the mark on her hand.  _ Wake up,  _ she thought, using the same force of will she used to draw magic across the veil into this world.  _ Wake up! _

The mark woke up, and Hestia’s hand was drawn upward towards the rift. She let it, let the beam of light that connected her with the rift do its work, felt the buzzing of the mark overtake her hand and crawl up to her shoulder, felt the jolt of power when the rift cracked open like a door blown back by a gale force wind.

A pride demon stepped from the rift, blinking its many sets of eyes at the many people surrounding it. The Breach crackled above them, but this beast was too powerful to be driven mad by a trip through a rip in the veil. Hestia could swear she could see intelligence in its face. It curled its lips into what must’ve been a sneer.

The fight was a blur for Hestia. This thing was great and powerful but it was outnumbered, no matter how many crackling balls of lightning it threw, how many people it knocked prone with the chain that hung from its other hand, more of Cassandra and Leliana’s people got up again and attacked it with delirious intensity. Hestia fought with all the strength left in her, drawing on the last of her mana to strip away the pride demons power.

Eventually the creature was forced to its knees and even as Cassandra’s sword sprouted from its chest, the woman was screaming to Hestia, “Now! Seal the rift!”

Hestia summoned up the last vestiges of her strength and reached out to the rift.  _ I hope it works, I really do, _ Hestia thought before the blackness swallowed her up.  _ Nobody else should die for me. _

_ I’m sorry Seph, I’m so sorry. _

* * *

She didn’t expect to wake. She was almost disappointed when she did.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you just gotta write 10k of pain
> 
> I owe a debt of gratitude to Illyria_Lives, without whom this big fucked up Trevelyan family would not exist. I'm sootspritessprinkles on tumblr and sootsprites94 on twitter, talk to me anytime


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